


Second Chances

by GarrulousGryffindor (thegalenwrites)



Category: Mass Effect
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Twins, M/M, Renegade Commander Shepard
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-10-08
Updated: 2013-10-08
Packaged: 2017-12-28 20:09:25
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,718
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/996054
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thegalenwrites/pseuds/GarrulousGryffindor
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>What if Shepard died in the collector base at the end of ME2? Who would be left to stop the reapers? That lot now falls to Jared Shepard, John's twin brother. And he's not happy about it. </p><p>Begins at the start of ME3 // M!Shepard/Kaidan // renegade!Shepard</p>
            </blockquote>





	Second Chances

**Author's Note:**

> Greetings! I have long read Mass Effect fics but this is the first one I've written. Definitely not the first story I've written though ;)
> 
>  _Some thing to note:_  
>  * This story takes place at the beginning of ME3.
> 
> * This story will be somewhat AU. It will go on assuming that Shepard died in the second game, but his crew survived. This story will be about what might have happened if he had a twin brother, Jared, to 'replace' him and finish the reapers. This is the reason for the archive warning of 'major character death', just so you don't think I'll randomly off someone later (though, I reserve the right to change my mind).
> 
> * It will follow the sequence of events that happens in ME3, but will not be a 'retelling' as some fics turn out to be (except the next chapter a little bit, apologies).
> 
> * This story will eventually be M!Shepard/Kaidan. In other words, this will be slash fiction. If this bothers you, best bail out now.
> 
> * Obviously, all rights to anything Mass Effect do not belong to me and I am not profiting monetarily from this story in the slightest.
> 
> Excellent. Without further ado, the first chapter...

****

#### 2186 CE

****

Jared Shepard is having a rough night.

It seems like every fucking batarian on the citadel is in Dark Star right now and it also seems that someone has tipped them off to the fact that the 'new bartender' was somehow involved with the mess that happened on Torfan. Perfect.

He is cleaning the inside of a glass with a cloth when one of the ballsier batarians makes his way to the bar.

"Get me a drink human," the alien soldier barks.

"You'll have to ask nicer than that," Shepard drawls, not raising his eyes from the glass he is cleaning, but perfectly aware of everything going on in his peripherals. "I sure as hell hope you don't think that pretty face of yours is going to make me get it."

"I didn't ask for your opinion jackass." The batarian's eyes all manage to narrow at once as he stares Shepard down. "Get me a fucking drink!"

"I guess the word please isn't in your vocabulary. Too bad for you." Shepard shrugs and turns away from the batarian, using the glass behind the bar to watch the alien behind him.

Just as expected, the batarian grabs Shepard's shoulder and slams him down on the bar face first. He turns his head just in time to avoid breaking his nose and clasps his hand around one of the bar rail liquors under the counter. His fingers tighten around the neck of the bottle and he waits.

A few other batarians have come over now, laughing at the display. The turian bartender who had been working beside Shepard has somehow managed to make himself scarce. _Convenient_ , Shepard thinks with some annoyance. He's always known that bastard was not a big fan of humans.

The batarians are jeering now, thinking they have Shepard at a disadvantage. It was stupid of them to underestimate him. He supposes they thought he was useless unarmed. They would live to regret that. But not for much longer...

"Didn't think we'd recognize you 'Butcher of Torfan'? Thought you could hide out here in this little hole on the Citadel and no one would know any different? My father was among those soldiers you murdered. The ones that surrendered. Every batarian here knew someone on that moon. Someone you slaughtered." At this, he grinds Shepard's face harder into the bar. "You're a disgrace to the military. Call yourself a soldier-"

"Haven't for awhile now," Shepard pipes in, voice muffled by the surface of the bar he is currently squished against.

"Even among humans you are a rat," one of the other batarians growls over the other brute's shoulder. "Even they don't want anything to do with you."

Shepard manages as much of a shrug as he can from where he's being held. This isn't his first encounter with enraged batarians and he suspects that it will not be the last. "I got the job done. I always do."

And if his choices are a little morally... grey? So be it. He could live with that. It seemed it was the others that couldn't deal.

"Son of a bitch! We're going to enjoy killing you. Slowly. And painfully," the first batarian announces, lowering his face so that it is close to Shepard's. He can smell whatever the alien had been drinking before he'd come over here on his breath. Certainly doesn't smell like a bed of roses that is for damn sure.

"Get him up. Let's get out of here before C-Sec comes sticking their noses where they don't belong," the other batarian tells him, looking over his shoulder anxiously. The bar had mostly cleared out at the first sign of trouble. Shepard suspects that C-Sec has already been notified and are indeed on the way. He'd have to finish this up quickly.

"Final words Shepard?" The batarian's grip on his neck loosens ever so marginally, but it is enough. And Shepard knows a window of opportunity when he sees one. Or feels one, in this case.

"Yeah," Shepard replies evenly, "You talk too much." He smashes the bottle on the underside of the counter and jams it into the batarian's face. He aims to get as many eyes as possible and manages to secure the bottle in the right side of the batarian's face. The batarian yowls in pain as the bottle sticks out, Shepard can see his silhouette and knows he's lodged it in there good.

The other batarians are quick to react, but they still seem to think he will be easily handled. One smashes Shepard in the side of the face with the butt of his rifle, he takes the hit so that the batarian won't notice his hand sneaking to the batarian's belt to grab his side arm. Pistol in hand, he shoots said batarian in the head before quickly turning and dispatching the other two stupid enough to stick around. The others have long since departed. The only one still breathing is the snivelling mass of the first batarian to attack him, crawling pitifully on the ground in a puddle of his own blood. Shepard kicks him unceremoniously in the side so that the batarian is now on his back. The batarian holds his hand out in a gesture of surrender, muttering apologies under his breath in between whimpers.

But they were far past that.

"Apology denied," Shepard deadpans. A shot fires and the batarian falls back against the dance floor, a fresh pool of blood adding to the other crimson puddles around him until the floor around the bar is more blood than floor. "Say hi to your father for me."

Shepard sighs as he looks around at the mess. It was only his second day. He supposes he will be looking for another job after this. Again. Killing patrons is probably frowned upon. It seems these sorts of 'incidents' follow him around. His record is going to be pretty lengthy soon. C-Sec would be here soon to add to it. There was no point in trying to run away.

Sitting down at the bar, Shepard reaches over and grabs a bottle of whisky. He pulls off the lid and looks over at one of the dead batarians, slumped over the bar beside him. There is an untouched glass of whatever the batarians had been drinking before. Tilting the bottle of whisky, Shepard clinks the glass together and holds the bottle out in salute to the batarian.

"Cheers," he mutters, drinking deeply from the bottle.

* * *

The C-Sec interrogation rooms are getting nicer. Shepard can't help but notice. Look at this comfy chair he has and everything. They should be careful with that, you don't want the criminals thinking they will get a free vacation every time they perform another felony. He rests his hands behind his head, cuffed as they are, and relaxes. They were taking longer than usual to send someone in to harass him. He wonders what Bailey will say to him this time. Probably something along the lines of 'i'm getting real sick of your shit Jared!' That's how it usually started. Then there were threats to ship him off to Omega and ban him from the Citadel. And then came the grudgingly quiet appreciation for Shepard cleaning up the citadel in a way that C-Sec couldn't officially. This was usually followed by some sort of punishment, at least on record. Whether Shepard would do it or not would depend on how Bailey felt that day.

The door opens, but Shepard doesn't bother looking over, staring at the ceiling instead in his reclined position.

"So what'll it be this time Bailey? Community service? Some unofficial favours for the bureau?" Shepard asks with nonchalance, counting the beams in the roof for lack of anything better to do.

"I'm disappointed in you, Commander." That voice is all too familiar and has Shepard sighing and removing his gaze from the ceiling. His arms remain poised behind his head in relaxation. He doesn't have to show any respect to Anderson anymore. He is no longer a military man.

"It's just Shepard. Or Jared. My days of being called Commander are long past Anderson," Shepard replies evenly.

Councillor Anderson shakes his head as he stands beside the interrogation chair. It is clear from the look on his face that he disapproves of the way Shepard is addressing him and his posture. Anderson is a soldier, through and through. Making fun of the chain of command is not tolerated. Shepard might have cared if he were still enlisted, as it stood the aggravated set of the other man's jaw just amused him.

"Your brother would be disappointed in you too. You could have been an exceptional marine. Like him. Now look at you..." Anderson's tone is more acerbic than usual when he addresses Shepard. "Wasted potential."

Shepard laughs at this, the bitterness in it apparent. "I tried. You frowned upon my methods. Looked down on how I got things done. But they always got done. I succeeded where others would have failed and what did I get? A dishonourable discharge." He straightens up in his chair now so he can look at Anderson evenly. The topic of his DD always got him in a bit of a mood. Today seemed to be no exception. "How is dear old John doing anyways? Haven't heard anything from him since he pulled a zombie Jesus and came back from the dead."

Anderson straightens up and looks slightly uncomfortable. That probably isn't the best sign. He'd seen a similar expression on his face when he- When he...

"He's dead again isn't he?" Shepard says matter-of-factly, more a statement than a question. "For real this time."

The councillor doesn't say anything for a moment and then nods slowly. Shepard feels a wave of nausea come over him. Though they had been twins, they hadn't been close in a rather long time. At the end of the day though, John was still Jared's brother and probably the closest person to him. It didn't say much for Jared Shepard's social skills, but he'd never had the same 'charisma' that John had seemed to have.

"Your brother might be lost to us," Anderson begins, pacing a little in the small room, "but I have a plan."

Shepard looks up, intrigued.

**Author's Note:**

> Any comments/kudos are greatly appreciated and virtual chocolate chip cookies will be dispensed :)


End file.
